


The End

by sunbuhrns



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: I’m so sorry, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), SO SAD, Sad, Stucky - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 05:25:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14561853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbuhrns/pseuds/sunbuhrns
Summary: “It’s okay, Buck. It’s okay.”They won. But this doesn’t feel like winning.So, basically. I was talking with my friend, and we were headcanoning how Avengers 4 is gonna go. We came to the conclusion that since Steve had to watch Bucky die the last four movies, Bucky had to watch Steve this time.





	The End

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry.

The End.

This is it. This is the end, and they all know it. They’ve been fighting the same battle for five _years_ and it hasn’t been let up. Steve doesn’t think it’s going to let up. He’s not one to quit, he’s never been one to quit, but everything is falling apart before his eyes, and for the first time in his life, he’s starting to feel completely helpless. He laid on the ground, catching his breath as Thanos continued to terrorize the group around him, nearly disassociating, able to see himself as an outsider looking down. Like he was in a movie. Thanos had the stones, all six of them. Beating him was impossible, he’d already wiped out half of their team. Bucky. He’d taken Bucky from him again, right before his eyes. And this time it was for good, he could feel it. It was for good. If he’d known, he would’ve spent the time in Wakanda smarter, cherished it more, but there wasn’t anything that could have prepared him for this. Any of this. But, Steve was never one to back down from a fight. He _couldn’t_. He had nothing left to lose, and he’d always wanted to die for what was right. 

He picked himself up off the ground, shaking off the doubt that he had. He knew he couldn’t win, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let the guy go without a fight. He took a deep breath, running back towards the fight he knew he couldn’t stay away from. Let it be said, Steve didn’t go down without a fight. He gave Thanos a run for his money, his strength would have been enough had it not been for the stones. The fucking stones. He was basically a god, with those. Could control any aspect of the situation, everything was out of anyone’s control, but that wasn’t going to stop him. They finally got him down on his knees, Thor holding down his arm with his axe, Tony throwing punches, anything he could to keep him disoriented as Steve pulled, with all of the strength that he had left in him. Letting out a scream, a groan, any sound he could as he pulled the glove off of Thanos’ hand. He threw it to his side, where Rocket was waiting, already briefed on what he had to do when the time came. How to make everything better again. 

That was all it took to unleash even more anger in the _beast_ , which was the only word Steve could use to describe him. A _monster_. While his hand wasn’t being occupied with being tugged on, it was free now, letting him reach up and punch Tony, sending him through the air, and pull his other arm out from the hold it was stuck on from Thor. Steve didn’t get the least of the vengeance, though. As he was the one to ultimately dethrone him, he was thrown, punched, beaten. And at this point he couldn’t bring himself to care. They’d won. And if he died for this, so be it. Rocket reversed the curse and as he laid there, beaten to a pulp and barely able to breathe, he heard a familiar voice. 

“Steve...?” The words echoed in his head, he thought it was a memory, the fact that he was slipping out of consciousness, they say you remember the most traumatic moments when your time comes. But it wasn’t until he heard the gun drop, and his head being lifted by a cold, cold metal, and then rested into a warm, warm lap, that he found the energy to look up at him. He was clinging on to life, the only reason he hadn’t slipped completely out, was because of the boy sitting above him. 

“Come on, Steve, you’re okay. You’re okay, right? You’re fine. You can do this. You just have to breathe. You just gotta stay with me.” Bucky’s voice rambled, if the fear wasn’t clear in the shakiness of his voice, it was bright as day on his face. Steve had seen Bucky scared before, he had, but never like this. Nothing like this. 

“It’s okay, Buck. It’s okay.” Steve brought himself to say, wincing as he tried to sit up, a cut in his torso that he didn’t notice before, showing its strength. With coaxing from Bucky he stayed where he was laying, his head in his lap, nodding slowly. “Buck.” He started again. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. You just gotta be strong. We won. We’re gonna win.” He said, bringing his hand up to reach to Bucky’s face, twisted up, trying to hold back any sign of tears that were threatening to fall. He couldn’t lose him. “I’m okay with it. I’m ready.” He said, his voice getting weaker as the time passed by. 

“No! No. Shut the fuck up. Don’t do this.” Bucky said, anger in his voice, now. 

“Buck.” Steve said, sighing softly and shaking his head. Letting his hand fall and grab Bucky’s. The real one, it had been pressing down into the wound on his side, trying to stop any bleeding. He grabbed it, the warmth running through his body immediately, squeezing it tightly. 

With that, Bucky knew. Steve was ready. Ready like he’d been so many times before, ready to the point where Bucky had been _begging_ for something to come kill him so he didn’t have to suffer anymore. He knew it was selfish for him to want Steve to stay. 

“You’re a fuckin’ punk.” Bucky mumbled, eyes watering, voice vulnerable. He wasn’t trying to put up a front. This was them. This was him losing his best friend, his everything. There wasn’t time for facades. 

“Jerk.” Steve mumbled back, fondly, and as if he was waiting for Bucky’s permission, his eyes fell shut, and the tight, painfully tight grip he had on Bucky’s hand loosened. Bucky let himself go. He leaned down, his forehead pressed against Steve’s, squeezing his hand as tight as he could, just hoping that it would squeeze back. It didn’t. It wouldn’t. He pulled himself together, shaking his head and looking down at Steve, bringing his new metal arm up to run over his skin on his face, changing his mind quickly and letting go of his hand in favor to feel the warmth of his skin one last time. Death is different when you’re on the other end. It’s peaceful, desirable. All the times Bucky had thought he was gone for good, he felt at peace with that. Welcoming. But being on this end, being on this end was different. It filled him with sadness, regret, wishing he’d said things he didn’t, or not said something he had. 

Most of all, anger. So much anger. Not at Steve, never at Steve. At the world, couldn’t these two ever catch a _break_? In the 100 years Bucky’s been alive, he’d never been able to take it easy. When they were kids, he worked hard, over nights and on weekends, especially when Steve’s mom died. Just to make ends meet so they could pay the rent for the month, having to sacrifice the heating for meds that Steve needed just to stay alive. The world was fucked, that much he knew for sure. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off violently, not wanting anyone, or anything to get involved in his feelings right now. Steve was the only one who ever saw those. Who ever would. 

He mustered up enough courage to sit up, to let his hand fall from Steve’s face, moving his head from his lap to lay on the ground, staying gentle. Always gentle with him. He looked around at the group of Avengers around him, everyone beat up and worn out, offering him concerned, empathetic looks. One casualty out of what, 60? It was a pretty good ratio, but not when that casualty was Steve. They won. But this didn’t feel like winning. Not at all. 

“Can you bring him back?” Bucky asked, keeping his voice as level as he possibly could. He made eye contact with Wanda, knowing she had her fuckin witch powers. Could probably do _something_. She shook her head. He looked over to Rocket, and realized his worst fear. They’d already destroyed the stones. There was no going back. This was it. This was the end. 

After a moment of silence, standing around each other, Bucky looked up at Natasha. He’d grown close with her, as close as he could get to someone who wasn’t Steve. “I want you to shoot me.” He said, quickly pulling off the protective body armor he’d had on leaving him in just a plain t-shirt. Falling onto his knees, he looked up at her, practically begging. He could see the fear in her eyes, knowing that this was too much to ask. But a world without _Steve_ in it, wasn’t a world he wanted to live in. It wasn’t. A world he _could_ live in. 100 years is a long life. After at least 45 minutes of pleading, everyone around him trying to convince him to stop, and the threat to do it himself, she finally nodded slowly. 

It was fast. She had good aim, she was a trained assassin after all. It hurt, he could feel it. He could feel the knock off brand super serum through his veins, trying to fix the problem, but it was too spot on, and too fast for anything to help him. He let himself fall back slowly, looking up at the sky. He didn’t feel the pain anymore. It was sharp, hard, and then it was gone. He felt safe, he felt peace, he felt okay. Okay for once in his life. 

And maybe now they could finally get their happy ending. Living amongst the stars together. Bucky stopped believing in God a long time ago. No God would let the awful things he’d seen happen, and just stand by. But he couldn’t help but wish for a hint of truth from all the catholic schooling he’d been through. And hope that there was an after life, and it was full of Steve, and them finally living the life they deserved. 

This was it. This was the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments! Kudos if you liked? Send me prompts on tumblr! sunlinedclouds.tumblr.com !


End file.
